I Lost Her
by Annie-chan
Summary: My first Slayers fic! It's in Val's point of view soon after his race's slaughter. The rating is for heavy swearing in some parts.


**Author's Notes:**  I've finally decided to try my hand at a _Slayers_ fanfic.  It's a first-person fic in Valgaav's POV.  Val-kun has worked his way into my heart, and is now one of my very favorite anime characters.  This fic is pretty dark, for it's his thoughts very soon after the slaughter of the Ancient Dragons, and Val-kun is understandably bitter.  I also wanted to tell my version of his first meeting with Xellos, my favorite _Slayers_ character (Val-kun is my second fave).

_Slayers_ and all its characters do not belong to me.  They are copyright Kanzaka Hajime, Araizumi Rui, Kadokawa Shoten, TV Tokyo, SOFTX, Marubeni, Enoki Films USA, ADV Films, and anyone else I forgot to mention.

Oh, yeah: _Slayers_ is my second favorite anime of all time (_Fushigi Yûgi_ is my first), and features my all-time favorite anime girl, Lina Inverse.  She's not in this, though.  She won't even be born yet for about another thousand years.

I Lost Her By Annie-chan 

I'm lying on my bed, staring up at the blank ceiling.  I still feel a little weak.  It was only two days ago that—I quickly divert my mind.  I can't remember that.  I won't let myself.  It's too horrible to even think about.

I need something, anything, to think about other than that.  I find my thoughts curiously drifting to the bed I am lying on. Mazoku need no sleep, yet beds seem to be as common an accessory to their bedrooms as with ryuzoku.  I blush as I come across a sudden thought.  Beds are used for more things than just sleep.

I, myself, need sleep.  Being half-ryuzoku, I still need it, just not nearly as much as I did before two days ago.  I have not slept at all since I was reborn as half-mazoku.

The door to my room is flung open.  It's him.  The Mazoku Lord to whom I owe my life, Chaos Dragon Gaav.  I can see his priest Raltark and general Rashaat behind him.  They look at me with gleeful resentment.  Mazoku so love to hate.  I hate those two back, and that only serves to please them more.  I'll rip them apart with my own bare hands if I ever get the chance.  Their lord and father who they so joyfully serve wouldn't regret their deaths any more than I.  He would only take it as a sign of their weakness.

"Gaav-sama!" I say, startled.  Mazoku have never been a race associated with formalities, but I still have not gotten used to one just walking into my room with no warning.  Gaav, though, being a Dark Lord, one of the grandsons of the Lord of Nightmares herself, can walk into my room whenever he damn well pleases, I guess.  Before I can do anything besides my startled acknowledgement of his presence, he speaks the reason of his coming.

"Get up, Valgaav.  You have a visitor."  I am confused.  A visitor?  Who?  Nobody knows I'm here.  In fact, nobody knows I'm even alive, besides Gaav and his subordinates.  Before I can voice my confusion, he continues.  "It's Xellos, that bitch Beastmaster's general and priest."

Xellos Metallium.  I've heard of him.  Almost no ryuzoku hasn't.  The priest and general of Beastmaster Xellas Metallium.  He is one of the most powerful of all the Dark Lords' principal servants, third only to the priest and the general serving Hellmaster Phibrizzo.  His power is due to having both of the top positions under his mistress.  I'm sure the Beastmaster intended it that way.  My mind darkens as I remember that he is supposed to be one of the cruelest as well, right up there with Dynast Grausherra.  What does he want with me?

"Well?!"  Gaav's sharp question snaps me out of my thoughts.  "What are you waiting for?  Get going!"  I jump to the floor, a little afraid of his annoyance—which may prove to be very wise indeed—and walk toward the door.  As I pass, he tells me where Xellos is.  "Entrance hall.  He doesn't like waiting, so move quick, unless you want him angry at you.  And, in your state, you _don't_ want him angry at you."

I am a little surprised that he gave me that warning.  I would think that he, as well as Raltark and Rashaat, would enjoy my pain should Xellos happen to attack me.  But then, maybe he doesn't want a new servant to get killed so soon after being initiated into his service.  And perhaps he just doesn't want Xellos to mess with what is his.  As I pass, Raltark grins at me mockingly.  I shoot him a dark look, but he and Rashaat just snicker.  My blood boils every time I see them.

As I walk toward the entrance hall, my mind goes nuts thinking of reasons why someone like Xellos would want anything to do with me.  Everything I can think up doesn't appeal to me in the least.

Then, I wonder why Xellos can just waltz right in here, being the principal servant of one of Gaav's most hated enemies, without having Gaav sic Raltark and Rashaat on him.  There must be some kind of temporary truce signal between mazoku, like the white flag humans use.  It still doesn't settle me.

I enter the entrance hall and stop short, surprised at what I see.  Most mazoku have something that makes them stand out as mazoku in their human forms.  Besides the universal cat's eyes and sharply pointed teeth, there's usually something that makes them look less than human.  Pointed ears, feral markings, oddly colored skin—the horn I acquired just a couple days ago.

This being looks entirely human in every way, shape, and form.  Entirely innocent of any and all evil, too.  His pale, smooth skin bears no mark, and he has no horns or claws to betray his nature.  The eyes, squinted up in a permanent smile, give him a comical look, and the little grin would do nothing to give anybody alarm.  His clothes look like something any traveling priest would wear, and the staff reminds me only of something I saw in a book illustration in a chapter telling of human sorcerers who specialize in black magic.  I would easily be fooled into thinking he was a harmless mage if I didn't feel the almost overwhelmingly evil aura surrounding him.

I stand there, a little bewildered at the totally unexpected appearance of this…creature.  He stands there as well, just as silent, until the silence is near deafening.  He finally speaks, his voice so different than anyone would expect from him.

"So, you are Valgaav, ne?  You look a bit different than I imagined you."

The corner of my mouth pulls up slightly.  "As do you."

"Heh…I get that quite a bit."  Is he playing friendly so I would let my guard down?  I stay alert.

He walks toward me, his footsteps nearly inaudible, even to my sharp ears.  "Come closer.  You remind me of something I saw many years ago.  Something I saw and killed."  He stops less than five feet from me, his expression having changed from mirthful to curious.  He slowly sniffs the air, as if testing it for some poisonous substance.  His eyes snap open, revealing glittering amethyst irises surrounding blackest obsidian shards.  His face now shows nothing but shock and disbelief.

"Dragon," he half whispers, incredulous.  "_Ancient_ Dragon.  So, one of you survived, thanks to that traitorous bastard who dares to call himself a Dark Lord.  Just something else I can report against him."  His mouth returns to a smile, only this time, sadistic and bloodthirsty.  "You look _just_ like that Ancient Dragon I killed about eighty years ago, Val-_chan_."

I almost lash out at him.  How dare he speak to me so familiarly?!  But then, he's who knows how many years older than me, so I'm practically a baby next to him.

My eyes snap wide as I realize what he said.  Eighty years ago.  I was ten years old.  My father, who I resembled very much, was found brutally murdered out in the woods surrounding the Ancient Dragon city.  The signs of "mazoku" were all over his desecrated body.  And this creature standing before me had killed an Ancient Dragon eighty years ago that looked like me.  It was him.  This mazoku scum had murdered my father!

He starts toward me again, smirking.  "You knew that one, didn't you?  Someone close to you?"  He stops barely inches from me, staring straight into my raging eyes.  "You loved and respected this one very much, didn't you?  You dragons and your pathetic emo—"

He stops short as I slam my fist into his midsection as hard as I can.  The air exits his lungs in a choked cough, and he falls to his knees, gasping for breath.  I raise my fist to deal another blow, but he sees it and quickly backs away, out of my reach.  He rises to his feet after catching his breath.

"You little shit," he growls.  His eyes are open and glaring, and his lips are pulled back in a snarl.  "_Nobody_ does that to me!"  He suddenly rushes me, grabs my throat, and shoves me back hard against the wall, effectively stunning me, if only for the moment.  He throws me back out toward the center of the room, and I just barely manage to land on my feet, my head dizzy with the impact of the wall.  Before I know it, he is right in front of me again, and he grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me up against him.  I can feel his hot breath, and his lips are less than two inches from mine, as if to kiss me.  I shudder with revulsion.  The thought of a mazoku (and a male, no less!) touching me like that sends chills up my spine.  That hateful smirk is back on his face, the thrice-damned mazoku bastard.

"You better watch yourself, you little prick," he threatens.  "You are the last, and I will greatly enjoy killing you when the time comes."

"Fuck you, you son of a bitching bastard," I hiss back.

His eyes widen.  Nobody had called him that before and lived, I would guess.  No matter.  I wouldn't be terribly unhappy to die, anyway.  He snarls wordlessly and places the flat of his palm against my chest.

My world explodes into excruciating pain as the magic blast burns into my flesh, eating its way toward my vital organs.  I stumble backward and fall to the floor, a shriek of agony splitting the air.  The pain is so intense, it cancels out any pleasure feeling my mazoku side would feel.  My ryuzoku side is in its death throes, the black magic having ripped through it like wet paper.  I am dying.

A flash of light and a streak of energy come from the direction of the door leading into more of the fortress.  I hear footsteps running in my direction, Raltark and Rashaat having been ordered to either chase Xellos completely out of the Mazoku Desert or to kill him.  Xellos attacking me gave Gaav an excuse to attack him.  He was waiting for just that, I'll bet.

I fall into darkness for a few minutes, and wake up again feeling no better than I did before, but Raltark is kneeling beside me, holding me into a half sitting, half laying position.

"So, what do we do with him, Otôsama?" he asks Gaav.  "He's going to die in a few minutes."

"Heal him up," Gaav replies.  "Then, take his to his room."  The Chaos Dragon left.

The mazoku priest snickers sadistically and places a hand on my chest over the worst of the wound.  I have no time to wonder about the intention of that laugh before a potent black healing spell penetrates my body.  A barrage of sensations instantly paralyzes me, and I struggle not to scream out again.  My mazoku side is welcoming the spell, absorbing the evil power and growing stronger.  My ryuzoku side is writhing in agony, desperate to get away from the darkness.  My mind is warring with itself on whether to make my body purr in relief or howl in increased pain.  I can't take this!

Finally, it all stops.  I lay there limply, breathing hard, trying not to pass out, while Raltark lifts his hand to my cheek and caresses it like a mother would with her child.

"There.  All better now?" he asks mockingly.  I am not in the mood for teasing.  I turn my face into his hand and bite down hard.  He jerks it away and stares in shock at the black blood trickling from the fang marks on his palm.

"You bit me, you little punk!" he screams at me.  He slaps me hard, smearing his blood on my face at the contact, but I am so numb by now that it hardly fazes me at all.  I look up at him and give him the same condescending grin that he had given me before torturing me with that "healing" spell.

He snarls in rage and picks me up awkwardly, deliberately making me rather uncomfortable, and storms down the halls toward my room.  Rashaat is following behind, chuckling.

"Heh heh…you let your guard down for a second, Aniki," he says, clearly amused.  "You better hope that doesn't become a habit of yours."

"Urusai!" Raltark shoots back.  "This little shit isn't going to live very long if he tries that again."  He slams the door of my room open and throws me roughly down on the bed.  "It's your own fucking fault you got hurt like that," he half growls, then turns to leave, Rashaat right after him.

As soon as they are gone, my expression darkens.  My mind is repeatedly remembering a simple, four-word phrase Xellos had casually uttered.

You are the last…you are the last…you are the last… 

He is right.  I am the last.  I am not even an Ancient Dragon anymore, but a freakish combination of creatures that were never meant to mix.  My eyes start to sting.  I lost my people.  I lost them.

I lost _her_.

My darling Tionney.

Tears spill down my newly scarred cheeks.  Tionney.  She loved me.  I loved her just as much, if not more.  We were soul mates, I'm sure of it.  We promised each other we would belong to each other for all eternity.  We were barely out of childhood, I ninety and she eighty-six.  The elders of the village thought us very young to be making such a pledge, but we didn't care.  We knew who we belonged with.

I try desperately to keep from sobbing audibly as I remember the last time we were together before all nine hells broke loose in our beautiful city.  I had asked her to marry me, and she had immediately agreed.  Ancient Dragons cannot marry until both partners are at least one hundred fifty years old, but we would wait.  I would have waited three lifetimes for her.

That night…oh, gods, it was nothing like I ever expected.  It's not very common, but it's not frowned upon for Ancient Dragons to have sexual relations before marriage, as long as the two are at least engaged first.  We didn't care if the other dragons objected to two so young being together.

I close my eyes as memories come flooding back.  Her trim, slender body under mine; her raven-black hair as I slid my fingers through it; the soft smoothness of her skin as I caressed it; the sweet taste of her lips; her soft voice whispering my name over and over; and finally, her fingernails raking across the skin of my back as supreme pleasure swept through us, bodies and souls.

I turn my face into my pillow, crying quietly.  Never again.  I would never hold her in my arms again.  I would never even see her, hear her voice again!  She was gone.  My soul feels like something gouged out a huge piece and just left a gaping hole behind.  Oh, Tionney, I would give anything just to see you smiling at me once again.

Slowly, unwillingly, I let the horrible memories of the following day take over.

We had fallen asleep in each other's arms, hardly expecting anything outside the norm for the coming day.  In the middle of the next day, however, we awoke to the sounds of battle and screaming in the streets.  I jumped out of bed, threw my clothes on and ran to the window.  When I opened it, I beheld something I never wanted to see in my life.

Golden Dragons in full battle armor were swarming the streets, slaughtering any Ancient Dragon in sight.  I looked up.  Golds and Ancients in full dragon form were at war.  Warriors from both sides were falling dead or dying from the sky, but for every Gold I saw die, I saw three Ancients meet the same fate.  The Golds, much weaker than us one-on-one, had the advantage of numbers and surprise.  Every Ancient I saw was struggling with at least four Golds.  Struggling and dying.  I stared in horror as our proud fighters were laid to waste.  In the space of two minutes, I saw five of my older brothers fall and die.

Down in the streets, armed Golds made a massacre of innocents.  With no way to defend themselves, unarmed, unprotected civilians were brutally cut down before their time.  Bright red blood splattered the streets, and if I didn't know any better, I would have thought the Golds were enjoying this.  I saw the bodies of my mother, all my six sisters, and my remaining two brothers lying desecrated in the growing sea of corpses.  Scores of my friends lay dead as well, some barely recognizable, they were so maimed.  Many, many fragments of eggshell were strewn everywhere, the unhatched babies lying like trash among the other dead.

I couldn't move.  I desperately wanted to look away, to deny this hell had fallen upon our beautiful City of Roses.  The thorny flower bushes lining the streets that gave our city its name were either chopped to bits or burning brightly.  The Golds had begun to torch the city, much of it already consumed in a nightmarish inferno.

I stood ridged, unable to react for the life of me until I felt two slender arms wrap tightly around my waist.

"Valteria," Tionney sobbed fearfully onto my shoulder.  "What's happening?  What's going on?"

I immediately embraced her, shielding her eyes from the attack.  Her hands flew up to her ears as she tried to block out the sounds of wholesale slaughter.

"Don't look, Tionney, don't look," I whispered, my voice choked.  There was nothing I could do.  If one of us went out there, they would never come back.  If both of us went out, neither of us would survive.  We were kneeling under the window, hoping against hope that the Golds would somehow overlook us.

A shadow fell upon us.  I looked up and beheld two Golds in human form with their holy spears pointed at my face.  "Well, well," one remarked.  "Here're two we almost missed."

They brought their spears up, prepared to strike.  Acting on pure instinct, I lunged backward, taking Tionney with me, barely avoiding the spearheads.  The Golds exclaimed in annoyance, and started in the window.  Tionney and I were on our feet in less than a heartbeat, running toward the back of the house, hoping to get away.  I hit the back door so hard it shattered into toothpicks, and we stopped short as we came face to face with a seemingly endless number of Golden Dragons, all armed to the teeth.  We had no armor and no weapons beside our largely untrained magic skills.

"Shimatta!" I swore, making sure Tionney was very close to me.  I brought out my black-feathered wings, Tionney following my example a split second later.  Instead of leaping skyward as the Golds expected me to do, I lunged straight at them, screaming an Ancient battle cry.  The stunned Golds parted as I was about to plow right into them, allowing me to pass.  Tionney, who was holding on to my hand, and I dove upward, trying to get above the Golds.  The battle in the sky was over, our entire army having been killed.  No living Ancient could be found in the streets.  It was as if we were the last two.  Maybe we were.

We were flying at full speed toward the edge of the city.  If we could get out of the city, maybe we could also get away from the Golds.  Within a mile of the outer wall, some kind of spell exploded not five feet above us, knocking us to the ground.  The once pristine buildings burned like funeral pyres all around us, and the smoke was thick.  I could see the silhouettes of approaching Golds through the haze.

I looked desperately around, trying to find someplace to hide.  Going up was no good, as the Golds had us surrounded from the air as well as the ground.

I sensed movement behind me and whirled around.  A Gold stood less than two feet from me, and he had his holy spear back to strike.  I automatically braced myself for the blow, quite sure that I would not survive.  The blow never came.

Time stopped.

Tionney stood between me and the Gold, facing me.  The tip of the spear protruded from her chest.  Her eyes were wide and pain-wracked, staring directly into mine.  The Gold swore and yanked his spear out, causing her to fall forward into my arms.  She had stepped between us.  She had saved my life at the expense of her own.  I stared numbly at her murderer.  He drew his spear back again, and I was sure others were standing around me, doing the same.

Something in my mind snapped.  I could feel raw power gathering in my body, power I would have little control over.  My teeth clenched shut, and I started glowing with an angry red battle aura.

"Damn them," I whispered to myself.  "_Gods damn you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_" I screamed louder than I ever had before in my life.  Pure magic erupted from my skin, a blinding white inferno of power blasting outward, obliterating everything in the area, save Tionney and me.  Only flat, scorched dirt remained.

I dropped to my knees, cradling her body to my chest.  She stirred.  Oh, Ceipheed, she still suffered!

"Val…te…ter…ia?" she rasped out, blood flowing from her mouth even as she spoke.  My heart clenched.  "Val-chan…is that…y-you?"

I nodded weakly, unable to speak myself.  I felt her hand gingerly touch my cheek, which was now wet with tears.

"Don't cry," she soothed.  "We'll…we'll be toge—together again…someday."  She feebly pressed her lips to mine, and I could taste her blood mixed with my tears.  She collapsed back into my arms, her eyes closed, her face peaceful.  She was dead.

I crushed her body to mine, anguished cries forced from my lungs by my grief.  This couldn't be happening!  It just couldn't be!

A shadow of something flying passed over me.  Them.  Dozens of Golds in their full dragon forms.  They wanted their last victim here and now.

No!  I will _not_ fall prey to these heathens!  I brought out my wings again and streaked skyward.  I would get away or die trying.  I had not gotten very high when a huge claw lashed out and hit me square on.  I was knocked flying, and I let go of Tionney's body.  Rightly guessing her importance to me, one Gold caught her remains and tore them to pieces before my very eyes.

My mind registered what had just happened, and I lost all sanity.  "No…no…_no_…" I whispered, tearing at my hair.  "_Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_"

I began to change.  I had hardly ever been in full dragon form before, but I didn't even have to think about it this time.  These mother-fucking traitors would die.

I finished transformation and let loose an earsplitting, high-pitched Ancient Dragon war cry.  I launched myself at the Gold who dared to defile my beloved's remains, tearing a huge hole in his belly.  His blood sprayed and his guts spilled.  He died without a sound.

Dozens of fiery pains blossomed over me.  The Golds had buried their spears in my body.  Blood erupted from the wounds.  I looked at them, motionless, for a few seconds, then plummeted to the earth.  They left, assuming me dead or very near death.

I don't know what possessed me, but I started crawling to the Mazoku Desert not far off.  It was there I met Gaav.  At first, I was hostile, not wanting to associate myself with mazoku any more than with Golden Dragons.  He offered to help me get revenge.  The only thing I needed to do was to pledge my service to him, and the only way for him to save my life was to kill me and resurrect me as a half-mazoku.  I nearly choked on nothing.  Become mazoku?  My most hated enemy?  No!  That's disgusting!  But, then…the Golds had just massacred my people and taken away the one who mattered to me the most in the cruelest way.  Being a dragon made me like them.  No!  I don't want to be like them!  They're _worse_ than mazoku!  And this mazoku told me he could help me get revenge!

I accepted his offer, struggling to my feet and stumbling toward him.  I fell against him, feeling like I was going to drop dead any second.  Indeed, I probably would have.

I felt a sword powered by black magic stabbed into me.  As the cold metal ripped through my insides like tissue paper, I felt a growing pain deeper than flesh and bone.  A whirlwind of black magic seared through me, changing me, twisting me.  I screeched skyward, the greatest pain I will ever encounter without dying coursing through my body.  I never thought it would hurt this much!  My last conscious thought had been, _Oh, Tionney, gomen nasai_.

I had woken up here, in this bed, nearly half a day later.  As time when by, I realized I had gotten myself into a world with no pity, no relief from pain, no emotion whatsoever…besides hate, anger, jealousy, and all those other delightful feelings.  I had come into a world that will no doubt prove a constant hell for me, despite only being half-ryuzoku anymore.

My tears are tapering down.  My pillow is soaked with my grief.  I lay there, hoping sleep will come soon, when the door again is flung open.  It's Gaav.  Reflexively, I jump into a sitting position and turn around to see him.  He sees my face and stops in the middle of a word.

"What…are you doing?" he asks threateningly.  I am momentarily confused, until I notice that I have not wiped the tears from my face.  He has caught me crying.  Mazoku are never supposed to cry, and he considers me no exception, despite my mixed blood.

I open my mouth to answer—though I have no idea what to say—but he suddenly leaps forward and hits me hard enough on the side of the head to knock me to the floor.  I lay there, stunned.  He is yelling something about acting like a mazoku should, and all common sense leaves me, thanks to the recent blow to the head and to my deteriorated psyche.  I defy him.

Still lying on the floor, I growl up at him, "I'm not a mazoku, you fucking bastard.  I'm only here because you decided to have a little fun with the last of a murdered race."

Gaav stood very, very still.  I'm sure nobody but his few superiors ever spoke to him like that.  I'm nowhere near his power, much less his superiors' powers.  He suddenly kicks me hard in the ribs, and I am sent flying up against the far wall.

"You little fuck," he says, his voice dripping with rage and hate.  "How _dare_ you speak to your master that way?"

"You are not my master," I continue, in as steady a voice as I can manage with several broken ribs.  "I was stupid to make that deal with you in the desert.  I don't know why I ever promised to serve under you."

His eyes blaze with barely contained fury.  He grabs me by the neck and hurls me back onto the bed, knocking the wind out of me.  "Shut the hell up, if you want to see tomorrow!"

"Than kill me, _damn you_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream.  All I want is to die now.  Forget revenge.  All I want is to see my beloved Tionney again.

A hand grips my hair hard.  He pulls me upright, my feet dangling an inch or so off the bed.  His voice is low, more dangerous than I've ever heard before.  "Don't you dare give me orders, Dragon.  I decide your fate, not you."  He drops me back down, slamming my head against the headboard.  I nearly go unconscious.  He knows what I want.  He knows I want death, so he's going to keep me alive.  He knows just how to torture me most.

I hate him.  Oh, Ceipheed knows how I hate him.  My mazoku side feels extreme loyalty toward him, being born from his power, but my ryuzoku side is thoroughly repulsed by the fact that I am trapped as his servant.  I fear I will constantly be at war with myself concerning how to feel of this predicament.

My eyelids suddenly feel very heavy, and I drift off to sleep.  My dreams are blessedly centered on Tionney, with no interruptions of death and destruction.

Soon, Tionney…soon, you shall have your revenge.  Those Golden Dragons will pay with their lives!

Owari 

**Author's Notes:**  Jeez, this took a long time to write.  My fingers feel like they are about to fall off.  Anyway, did you like my version of Val-kun's horrible early-life experiences?  I think I did pretty well, not to brag.  Please send anything you have to say to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!  This is my first _Slayers_ fanfic, and I would really like to know what you all think!


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